Whiskey for the memories
by Caty-Cross
Summary: Arthur tries to drown his memories in the bitter amber liquid in the bottom of his glass. K for mild swearing


**Wow, my first uploaded Hetalia fic! I am so sorry to everyone who was expecting this to be Summer Vacation chapter 13 ^^' I am working on it and it will be up soon!!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia, obviously**

**I am sorry if the characters are at all OOC or if the plot is....missing and I apologise for any spelling/grammer mistakes ^^**

* * *

He stared into the glass full of a golden liquid with cubes of ice clinking in it, with slightly glazed emerald eyes.

Whiskey for the memories.

A present from his older brother.

"_Only th' best fur mah wee brither__." __His older brother had ruffled his hair, laughing deeply. Arthur had scowled at him but Scotland did make the best whiskey._

Arthur paused, staring into the bottom of the glass, before he threw the rest of his drink down his throat. The pleasantly familiar, slightly bitter heat flashed down his throat and settled in his stomach. He put the glass down on the table with a small clink and ran his hand through his dusty blond hair. He leaned back on the sofa and stared blankly at the softly lit ceiling.

* * *

"_Arthur, Arthur!" _

_Baby blue eyes shining, messy blond hair bouncing as the child ran to Arthur. His infectious smile pulling out Arthur's tired one._

_Laughter as the two 'brothers' collided, a fierce hug around the waist._

"_I missed you"_

"_I missed you too"_

* * *

Arthur grunted and grabbed the bottle of whiskey, taking a mouthful straight from the amber glass. He hadn't drunk enough yet, he could still see clearly.

After another couple of mouthfuls the room was beginning to tilt crazily. He loosened his tie and then pulled it off viciously, throwing it as far away from him as he could. He unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt and then lounged back in the sofa again.

He took another gulp of his brother's whiskey.

* * *

"_Arthur, Arthur!"_

_Baby blue eyes, messy blond hair bouncing as the child…_

_No, he wasn't a child anymore. He was taller and bigger than Arthur._

_When had that happened?_

_He grinned at Arthur who smiled wearily back._

"_You've grown"_

"_I know"_

* * *

"Bloody hell" Arthur mumbled, running the back of one hand across his forehead, pushing his hair back from his face. He took another swig from his bottle.

Stupid America.

Who did he think he was, screwing Arthur around like this?

Invading his memories.

Invading his life.

He groaned and the world gave one final tip and his head hit the cushions and the bottle rolled out of his hand and onto the floor.

_

* * *

__Baby blue eyes, staring at him determinedly._

_Rain soaked him to the skin in seconds. The betrayal burned in his heart._

"_Hey England"_

_No 'Arthur', just 'England'_

"_I want freedom"_

_Freedom, such a strong word, and yet, also fragile. If it was toyed with too much, it would smash into a thousand shards of icy glass._

"_I'm not a child anymore, nor am I your 'little brother'" _

'_No, you're still a child! You don't know what it is you're asking for!' Why didn't Alfred understand? Why didn't he hear the words crashing around Arthur's head?_

"_Now, I'm seceding from you!"_

_Secede: Break away, split, separate, withdraw, _

_Become Independent._

_No. No no no no! He wouldn't allow it, couldn't allow it! He gritted his teeth in anger and ran through the mud, his bayonet raised, towards the cocky boy._

"_I won't allow it!" And in one swift movement he flipped Alfred's bayonet away. He stared into those baby blues, panting._

_And they stared right back, defiant and rebellious._

"_You don't understand, idiot" Arthur snapped._

_Baby blue stared into emerald green._

"_**Arthur, Arthur!"**_

_Arthur's eyes widened at the unexpected memory._

_He lowered the gun, feeling something build up behind his eyes._

"_I-I can't fire, fool"_

_The gun dropped and he fell to his knees, covering his face with his hands so as to cover up his tears._

"_Damnit! Why? Shit!" He swore desperately. His shoulders shook as he cried._

_He barely heard Alfred's murmur of,_

"_England, you were so big then…"_

* * *

"Arthur, Arthur!"

A key scrabbled in the lock and the front door opened.

The door was hurriedly closed behind him and Alfred shook out his rain drenched hair. He hung his bomber jacket by the radiator to dry and then walked into the living room.

"Hey, how comes it's always raining here? Do you…" But he stopped when he saw the glass on the table with melting ice cubes, the empty whiskey bottle on the floor, the arm trailing off the edge of the sofa.

He sighed and smiled sadly. He approached the sofa and saw Arthur, one arm over his chest, his shirt unbuttoned and his tie missing, snoring gently with a blush across his cheeks.

"You're such a dork" Alfred murmured. He pulled the throw off the back of the sofa and gently tucked it around Arthur. He leaned down with a smile and softly kissed the Englishman's forehead.

Arthur stirred and murmured,

"Don't go"

Alfred raised both eyebrows, but he came around the sofa and sat on the floor at Arthur's head. He leaned his blond head on the cushions and looked up at Arthur's sleeping face.

"I'm not leaving anymore" He whispered.

* * *

**Yeah, so there it is. Hetalia fic no.1**

**Please R&R Reviews will really boost my /failing/ confidence ^^'**

**If Arthur really drank a whole bottle of whiskey he would be very ill XD**


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